mood for conversation. The silence gave Annie time to sort through the facts, and they didn't add up.
She turned at her door. Her knee ached, but she barely noticed.
Izzy followed her to the kitchen. “Caffeine would be wonderful about now.”
“You talk, and I'll cook.”
She broke eggs in an iron pan and pulled out handmade stoneware plates, piling Izzy's high with homemade bread, fresh melon, and a Southwestern omelette. “What's going on?”
Izzy ate by the kitchen window overlooking the hillside.The beach was deserted, but his eyes kept flicking down to check. “There was no sign of anyone else when I got there.”
“But you suspect there may have been someone else. Not just the fencer?”
“It's not about what I suspect, Annie. It's about being prepared for any threat.” Izzy blew at his steaming mug of coffee, took a careful sip, then sat back. “Zero tolerance for slipups, remember?”
“I remember. And if any reporters show up, I'll have Reynaldo or his men escort them off the premises. It's happened before and we've never needed a gun or any fancy security equipment.”
“This is different.” Izzy cradled the coffee mug between his hands.
“Why? What are you really worried about?”
Izzy rolled the cup slowly. “Sam's made enemies over the years. With the kind of work he does, making enemies is inevitable.” He looked up, watching Annie's face. “Some are overseas, but some are the homegrown hate-group variety.”
The words left her cold.
Shadow warriors, wasn't that what Izzy was saying? Men who carried out covert operations and high-risk missions in places where normal rules didn't apply.
Annie kept her voice light. “So you're telling me Sam's more than a cute face in a nice white uniform?”
Izzy laughed grimly. “You could say that. He's one of the Navy's best and brightest. Unfortunately, now that his face has been splashed across twenty million TV screens, he's not anonymous anymore.”
Annie tugged off her sweatshirt and slid into the chair across from him. “So Sam's in danger?”
Izzy pushed away his coffee, frowning. “With a little persistence someone could track down a policeman on duty that day, ask a few questions about traffic, and find out which hospital Sam was taken to. You get the picture.”
Annie did indeed, and it frightened her silly. “How can the Navy prevent that?”
“Right now every detail about his life and whereabouts has been locked up like Fort Knox. They're taking all the usual precautions, plus some new ones made up just for the occasion.”
“But because the Navy is a big, cumbersome bureaucracy, mistakes can happen. Information can be leaked.” She sat back tensely. “That's why you're here. In case someone gets through.”
Izzy studied her for a long time, then nodded.
“Exactly how dangerous is this going to be?”
“You want the official answer—or the truth?”
Annie stared down at the coastline where sunlight touched the waves. “That answers my question. It also tells me why you wear a gun.”
A muffled sound came from Izzy's jacket. He pulled out his pager and studied it in silence.
“Well?” Annie demanded.
He pushed away his plate and stood up. “Sam's move may be delayed.” His expression told Annie nothing.
“Why?”
Izzy stacked his dishes in the sink. “I can't tell you because I don't know.”
“Can't you find out?” Annie's hands were trembling.
“This is the Navy we're talking about. Right now the rule is
need to know.
”
“Well,
I
need to know if Sam's okay. I also need to know when he's arriving.”
Izzy stared down at the beach. “When I find out, you'll find out. Right now, that's the best I can do.”
“W HAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF BED ?”
“Walking.” The man in the hospital gown grimaced. “Trying to.”
Admiral Howe shoved his unlit cigar in his pocket and took Sam McKade's arm. “You're barely off the IV, you young fool.”
“Six hours.” Sam hid a wince as he tried to lift
She turned at her door. Her knee ached, but she barely noticed.
Izzy followed her to the kitchen. “Caffeine would be wonderful about now.”
“You talk, and I'll cook.”
She broke eggs in an iron pan and pulled out handmade stoneware plates, piling Izzy's high with homemade bread, fresh melon, and a Southwestern omelette. “What's going on?”
Izzy ate by the kitchen window overlooking the hillside.The beach was deserted, but his eyes kept flicking down to check. “There was no sign of anyone else when I got there.”
“But you suspect there may have been someone else. Not just the fencer?”
“It's not about what I suspect, Annie. It's about being prepared for any threat.” Izzy blew at his steaming mug of coffee, took a careful sip, then sat back. “Zero tolerance for slipups, remember?”
“I remember. And if any reporters show up, I'll have Reynaldo or his men escort them off the premises. It's happened before and we've never needed a gun or any fancy security equipment.”
“This is different.” Izzy cradled the coffee mug between his hands.
“Why? What are you really worried about?”
Izzy rolled the cup slowly. “Sam's made enemies over the years. With the kind of work he does, making enemies is inevitable.” He looked up, watching Annie's face. “Some are overseas, but some are the homegrown hate-group variety.”
The words left her cold.
Shadow warriors, wasn't that what Izzy was saying? Men who carried out covert operations and high-risk missions in places where normal rules didn't apply.
Annie kept her voice light. “So you're telling me Sam's more than a cute face in a nice white uniform?”
Izzy laughed grimly. “You could say that. He's one of the Navy's best and brightest. Unfortunately, now that his face has been splashed across twenty million TV screens, he's not anonymous anymore.”
Annie tugged off her sweatshirt and slid into the chair across from him. “So Sam's in danger?”
Izzy pushed away his coffee, frowning. “With a little persistence someone could track down a policeman on duty that day, ask a few questions about traffic, and find out which hospital Sam was taken to. You get the picture.”
Annie did indeed, and it frightened her silly. “How can the Navy prevent that?”
“Right now every detail about his life and whereabouts has been locked up like Fort Knox. They're taking all the usual precautions, plus some new ones made up just for the occasion.”
“But because the Navy is a big, cumbersome bureaucracy, mistakes can happen. Information can be leaked.” She sat back tensely. “That's why you're here. In case someone gets through.”
Izzy studied her for a long time, then nodded.
“Exactly how dangerous is this going to be?”
“You want the official answer—or the truth?”
Annie stared down at the coastline where sunlight touched the waves. “That answers my question. It also tells me why you wear a gun.”
A muffled sound came from Izzy's jacket. He pulled out his pager and studied it in silence.
“Well?” Annie demanded.
He pushed away his plate and stood up. “Sam's move may be delayed.” His expression told Annie nothing.
“Why?”
Izzy stacked his dishes in the sink. “I can't tell you because I don't know.”
“Can't you find out?” Annie's hands were trembling.
“This is the Navy we're talking about. Right now the rule is
need to know.
”
“Well,
I
need to know if Sam's okay. I also need to know when he's arriving.”
Izzy stared down at the beach. “When I find out, you'll find out. Right now, that's the best I can do.”
“W HAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF BED ?”
“Walking.” The man in the hospital gown grimaced. “Trying to.”
Admiral Howe shoved his unlit cigar in his pocket and took Sam McKade's arm. “You're barely off the IV, you young fool.”
“Six hours.” Sam hid a wince as he tried to lift
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